Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Liechtenstein and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1963 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Black Sheep to the rap kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Bang on a Can All-Stars. All the underground hits.
All Whodini tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Golliwogs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Minnie Riperton record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
8 Eyed Spy,
Prince Buster,
Motorama,
Nick Fraelich,
Basic Channel,
Chris & Cosey,
F. McDonald,
Donald Byrd,
Harry Pussy,
Spandau Ballet,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Shoche,
Talk Talk,
The Toasters,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Monochrome Set,
Scrapy,
Big Daddy Kane,
Sex Pistols,
The Index,
Eddi Front,
Main Source,
B.T. Express,
Cheater Slicks,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Franke,
Ice-T,
Erasure,
Eric Dolphy,
Eli Mardock,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Steve Hackett,
The Wake,
The Victims,
Stereo Dub,
Bootsy Collins,
Procol Harum,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Names,
Scratch Acid,
Minny Pops,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Bobby Womack,
Sam Rivers,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
John Lydon,
The Human League,
48th St. Collective,
The Stooges,
Marvin Gaye,
Todd Rundgren,
Yusef Lateef,
Pulsallama,
Hoover,
Goldenarms,
U.S. Maple,
Lyres,
James White and The Blacks,
The New Christs,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Jesper Dahlback, Jesper Dahlback, Jesper Dahlback, Jesper Dahlback.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.